The SparrowPrologue
by okamiwarrior
Summary: This is a fanfiction I started five months ago when I read "To Kill a Mockingbird" in class. I hope you enjoy! :D


**Prologue**

A small rodent flicks its large, round receptors. The night is dark, save for a thin beam of light, seeping through dark clouds masking the face of a full moon. The young rat lifts its triangular apex, taking a big whiff of the New York air. All he can smell is pollution, which is how he likes it; nothing but car exhaust, drunken street goers, and fear? The rat turns its head about the alley, and finds itself sprinting off into a nearby garbage disposal, before he can be trampled by a pair of dainty heels. The rodent watches from his hiding spot, seeing a young girl, perhaps in her early twenty's, sprinting for her life. A man, about five foot eight, bounds after her, screaming words of complete savagery. The girl begins to gain distance between her and her pursuer so she, foolishly, casts a glance over her shoulder. A high pitched scream escapes into the air, as she tumbles onto the ground. Her pursuer draws nearer, as she tries to stand.

"Heh, not tonight love," the male's shadow creeps over the frightened girl, as she scrambles backward, pressing her back against a brick wall. She gazes upward at him, with large frightened eyes. Her vivid green eyes seemed to beg for mercy.

"Please, don't k-kill me! Let me go! I'll, I'll do anything!" she struggles to say this through her frightened tears. The male says nothing in response, as a sinister smirk begins to play across his visage. The girl watches as his meaty hand begins to travel towards his coat pocket, and she begins to realize that her next breath may be her last.

"You should've thought of that earlier sweetheart," the girl's eyes widen, as she opens her mouth to scream, but her vocal chords seem to be, almost, paralyzed. Thunder cracks through the alley, and a burst a lightning briefly stains its walls. The young rat leaps from its hiding place, and sprints in the other direction. The killer turns aiming his gun at the frightened creature.

"Where you going you damn parasite?" another smack of thunder fills the air, as a bullet ricochets off the ground, inches away from the rat's small physique.

"Hey! What are you doing mister?" a deep voice echoes in the night, accompanied by the distant sound of sirens. The killer glares at his dark skinned witness, who crosses his muscular arms defiantly. Despite the sound of sirens drawing nearer, the killer walks briskly towards his witness, gradually raising his weapon. A click sounds, as he uses his thumb to cock his handgun.

"That's none of your business punk!" the killer points his gun at the black man, ready to shoot, and kill, if necessary. The black man raises his broad chin, and rolls saliva on his tongue. A nice glob of spit lands directly on the killer's black, leather shoes. His cold eyes shift downward as he flicks the spit off the toe of his shoe.

"You gonna kill me like you did wit' that girl?" the black says without a smidge of fear. The killer's eyes shift upward at the sound of screeching tires. He suddenly chucks the gun at the black, who catches in instinctively. A car door slams shut, and a police officer steps onto the scene.

"Is there a problem, we got a call from someone at the Sly Fox," he says smoothly, as if he had rehearsed it with himself in a well-polished mirror. The killer points his finger at the black man, whom holds the handgun in stupid manner, shocked at what was happening.

"He killed her! I saw him kill her officer!" the black man looks up suddenly, as if he were slapped in the face. The gun falls from his grasp as he shakes his head frantically. The cop glances from accuser to accused. He quickly presses the black man against the wall and cuffs him.

"What! I didn't-"

"You have a right to remain silent."

"But I didn't-"

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law," the black man falls silent, not wanting to get in any deeper than he already is. The cop begins to pull him, roughly, away from the brick wall, turning him towards the cop car. "You have the right to an attorney during interrogation; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you." With that being said, the cop shoves the black into the backseat of the car. As the car drives away from the crime scene, the man can help but look back at the real criminal, whom is waving his meaty hand in a taunting manner.


End file.
